


Blame Veronica (Part 2)

by kit_middleton



Series: Blame Veronica [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Incestuous feelings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 13:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13031829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kit_middleton/pseuds/kit_middleton
Summary: Tom Keller discovers his son has stolen his credit card information and used it to subscribe to a gay porn website. Parental concern over what Kevin may be exposed to (non-con, child pornography) turns into voyeuristic interest when Tom investigates.Or: Tom Keller discovers gay porn.





	Blame Veronica (Part 2)

There was a time when Tom Keller paid very little attention to his credit card bills. Even now, with the financial worry caused by the looming threat of losing his comfortable-paying job because of the frankly weird upsurge of crime in Riverdale and the growing estrangement from his wife of twenty years suggesting that divorce might not be far into his future, Tom barely reads his bank statements. He does, however, pay enough attention to notice when a charge from an online vendor he doesn’t recognize pops up and investigates it. As investigations go, it’s short and, unlike his work in recent weeks, successful. He types the name of the vendor into Google and when the results pop up, the top one showing the description of a gay porn subscription website, he quickly identifies the culprit as Kevin.

Tom rubs his face, wonders when exactly his responsible, well-behaved son turned into a sex-crazed -

No. He stops himself. That thought is unfair and he knows it. Kevin’s merely a teenager, he remembers what it was like at that age (barely). Everything makes you think of sex, all the time. Except when Tom was a teenager, there were girls he could take out, make out with, try to convince to go a little bit further… Not his proudest moments. But for Kevin, by his own admission the only gay kid at his school, there is no such safe way to let off steam, ease the pressure. Not that Tom can really judge him, with his barely-concluded affair with Sierra McCoy still weighing on his mind.

Tom goes to work, tries not to think of the credit card bill, but by mid-morning he’s checking out the website on his laptop behind his locked office door. He can’t see much without logging on and he doesn’t have the log-in information despite the fact that he’s effectively paying for a subscription. He clicks on a few descriptions and watches the trailer for one or two of the films. It’s pretty standard fare for porn, a lot of “thick cock” and “tight hole” and “yeah, take that”, very bad dialogue with questionably consensual openings (“what are you doing?” “I know you want it” “come on, you want this cock or not?”) that turn into enthusiastic grunting and unrealistically long montages of a myriad of positions. All the actors look clearly adult and they all appear to use condoms for anal sex, if not oral. God knows it’s a great deal better than whatever Kevin was doing in Fox Forest (and a few of the things he sees on the website give Tom an unpleasant glimpse of what that may have been: his son forced to his knees while an older guy fucks his throat, when it’s not two guys holding him between them, fucking his mouth and ass at the same time). Still, worry gnaws at him, along with an unhealthy dose of curiosity.

When the station empties for lunch, Tom pops by Ethan’s office, a cupboard in the basement filled with all manner of eviscerated electronic equipment and a powerful computer connected to three screens. It’s like a parody of an IT specialist’s office, or a mad genius’ lair, just like Tom’s own office (with it’s rotary phone and lack of desktop computer) is the parody of a sheriff’s office from the 50s. Ethan is having lunch at his desk, one hand typing idly on his keyboard.

“What can I do for you, sheriff?” He asks genially.

“I need a favour.” Tom begins. “It’s not work-related.”

“Spit it out, man.”

So Tom does. He explains how his son lifted his credit card information, subscribed to this porn website and Tom wants to get the log-in information in order to monitor Kevin’s online activity. By the time he gets home that night, an email from Ethan containing Kevin’s user name and password is sitting in his in-box. He goes through the motions of his evening routine, but everything feels a bit off. Dinner with Kevin is silent and tense, it’s possible Kevin saw the credit card bill in the morning’s mail and expects to get busted for using his credit card without permission (and for porn, to boot), but true to his pre-Fox Forest revelation self Tom chooses not to talk about the uncomfortable stuff. His workout is unsatisfying, like a chore he has to get out of the way, his post work-out shower cut short because he’s anxious to ignore the fact that his cock is half-hard and probably has been since he understood after coming home from work that he’d spend most of the evening exploring his gay son’s porn preferences. Even worse is the notion that he can’t explain to himself why it would be necessary for him to know the details after he’d already established that no kids and no outright non-consensual stuff were involved.

Still, after Kevin goes up to his room to do his homework or whatever (*watch porn*, Tom’s mind provides helpfully), Tom locks his home office door from the inside, makes sure all the blinds are drawn and the curtains closed, and sits in from of the computer. He types the site’s name in the browser and enters the user name and password provided by Ethan when prompted, hoping this particular site doesn’t prevent log in from multiple computers at the same time. He doesn’t want confirmation of what Kevin is doing, and he certainly doesn’t want his son wondering why he suddenly can’t access the site. As expected, there’s a section on the main page, below the bar showing the most popular videos, where the user’s recently watched videos are listed. The date on which each video was watched is given, with the most recently watched at the top. He’s somewhat relieved that there is usually only one video per date, with none on multiple days and only a few days on which two or three videos were watched. The latter seem to match up with the nights Tom spent on the nightshift at work, or with Sierra, pretending to be working the night shift. He’s glad Kevin isn’t spending hours every night watching online porn (he studiously ignores the possibility that he may be watching on a different, free websites), but the way the list is set up gives him a dilemma: if the latest video watched shows up at the top, with the date, if Tom watches even part of a video it will jump to the front of the list, making it fairly obvious to Kevin that someone else has been using his account.

The best way to cover his tracks is to watch the latest video streamed on the account so the date will more or less match up, and hope Kevin doesn’t notice. For the other films, the trailer will give him the basic information. It’s not like Tom actually has any interest in watching gay porn, this is all to make sure his son is safe, right? Even in his own mind, that sounds less than convincing. He scrolls through the list, mentally taking note of keywords, actors, basic scenarios. The list goes back two weeks, so Kevin would have subscribed around the time of the Black Hood’s “test”, roughly when his own affair with Sierra was at its height. The early videos are in a gym setting, not really surprising seeing as how Kevin’s interest in fitness and bulking up seemed to coincide pretty closely with his coming out to his parents, so he may associate the gym with his sexual awakening. One of those is more disturbing to Tom, as it seems (from the trailer) to take place in a school locker room: the coach walks in on a young man masturbating and somehow the youth ends up sucking the coach’s cock and being fucked in various positions balanced on the bench (at one point he nearly stands on his head, which looks terribly uncomfortable but he seem to enjoy it).

The more recent video was streamed the previous day and ominously has the acronym DILF in the title. Tom does a quick mental scan of the dads he know (more importantly, that his son knows) and is hardly reassured by the result. None of the fathers of Kevin’s group of friends is obviously repulsive. They are all fairly fit, have most of their hair and aren’t much older than the man in the video appears to be. He’s even prepared to admit that Hiram Lodge and even FP Jones are good-looking, perhaps even objectively hot, if you’re young, horny and gay. He plays the video, careful to plug in headphones in case it gets loud, fully intending to just fast-forward through to get an idea of the kind of stuff that his son is assimilating. He knows how skewed kids’ perception of sex can become when they base their knowledge and opinions on porn. Fox Forest is a good enough indicator of that particular danger for his son.

The film begins with a young man (he’s probably supposed to be in his late teens, possibly just turned eighteen) trying to convince his girlfriend to have sex with him. He’s being kind of whiny and too insistent in the face of the girl’s refusal when an older man walks in. In authoritative, if wholly artificial dialogue, he explains to the young man that his daughter has clearly refused his advances and he will teach him a lesson. The girl leaves and the “lesson” that follows goes against whatever message the man seemed to be trying to impart about respecting a person’s limits and taking no for an answer. Despite the boy’s early misgivings, it takes an unreasonably short amount of time for the boy to be on his knees, enthusiastically sucking on the older man’s cock, pausing occasionally to lick at the length and head.

The titular dad grabs hold of the boyfriend’s hair and thrusts into his mouth, causing his to choke a little as the head hits the back of his throat. Tom groans, torn between sympathizing with the boy and imagining the feel of his throat spasming around his own erection. He palms himself through his pants, trying not to let his imagination pull his mind to his son’s activities with the perverts in Fox Forest. After a warning and a few shallower thrusts, the dad climaxes, pulling his cock out of the boy’s mouth and splattering his face and tongue with cum.

Tom watches the video to the very end, through the athletic fucking that follows a drawn-out rimming session, torn between arousal, guilt and a certain amount of horror. His own arousal he can almost excuse, after all the so-called boy in the video is clearly adult and seems to be enjoying the encounter immensely, but the obtrusive thought that Kevin watched the same material, probably masturbated to it, creates a disturbingly sexual link with his son that makes Tom very uncomfortable. He tries to comfort himself with the knowledge that he himself refrained from jerking off while watching, but the insistent almost-painful pressure in his balls indicates that that has merely been postponed, not avoided. The horror is merely the confirmation of the fear he has felt since Kevin came out to him nearly two years ago: that men could use his little boy sexually, without care or respect, as if he were little more than a disposable toy. The new horror is the realization that perhaps Kevin - his good son, straight-A student, who blushes at the slightest reference to sex (“we both know what happens in those woods”) - might enjoy that kind of treatment.

That night, Tom has an oddly limpid dream, one in which his senses feel heightened even though he can’t recall ever having had the use of his senses in dreams before. He’s in the sheriff’s station, just outside the door that leads to the holding cells. He hears whimpers, which the infallible logic of dreams informs him are made by Kevin. He opens the door just as the soft whimpers turn into outright moans. His stomach, clenched in fear before, turns liquid, too warm and heavy with the certainty that those moans are caused by pleasure, not distress. Mind straining against the inexorable forward momentum of his own feet, he rounds the corner and the cells become visible. Kevin is kneeling on the cot, his head resting on his forearms, his hands clenched around fistfuls of bedsheets, his face obscured. He’s wearing a t-shirt, one of those he wears to go running (*to go to Fox Forest*, a dark voice inside Tom’s mind corrects him), but appears naked from the waist down. Standing behind him, his own head bent over Kevin’s body, is the unmistakable shape of FP Jones, fully clothed in his usual jeans, flannel shirt and Southside Serpents leather jacket. FP’s face is pressed against Kevin’s bare ass, his hands pushing Kevin’s cheeks apart.

In the dream, Tom is both himself and FP, he can see and feel the firm, perfectly white flesh under FP’s hands and his own rage at witnessing the intimate contact. He flexes his hands and FP’s rough hands shift, further exposing the puckered pink of Kevin’s asshole. When FP bends his head, Tom can taste the sweat, feel the sweep of his own tongue against the rough hair and unyielding ring of muscle. The sound of Kevin’s moan twists his stomach with disgust (*No, Tom. Jealousy. Possessiveness. Never disgust, not for your boy.* The dark voice intrudes.) and he feels his son shudder against FP’s hands and tongue. FP’s eyes meet Tom’s over Kevin’s body, a knowing smirk on his face. Tom squeezes his hands, flaking the paint of the cell bars around which they are wrapped, wishing he were squeezing FP’s throat instead. FP chuckles darkly and increases the speed of his licks and the pressure he exerts against Kevin’s hole, poking the tip of his tongue inside. The boy moans and stretches his throat, giving Tom a torturous glimpse of his face, twisted in pleasure. Kevin opens his eyes and looks straight at him, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from whatever that scum FP did to him before this. Their eyes are still locked together when Tom feels FP’s fingertip, as if it were his own, push inside Kevin, the heat and pressure -

Tom wakes with a start, disorientated, the bedsheets restraining him like a straightjacket, cock painfully hard again. He twists and turns, manages to extirpate himself from his sweat-soaked sheets. He buries his face in his pillow to muffle the anguished sounds that feel ripped from his throat as he brings himself off with a few rough strokes, the image of Kevin’s face from the dream seared into the inside of his eyelids.

**Author's Note:**

> In this one, I got to enjoy fantasizing about both Martin Cummins and Skeet Ulrich, while writing incest by proxy. Because of course if you had to choose a proxy for your dirty sex fantasies in Riverdale, you would choose FP Jones!
> 
> I have ideas for further chapters, but may not actually write them. I have trouble writing actual incest fic that could also be believable. Tom Keller is written as so stiff and honourable (despite the affair).


End file.
